


barely tangible being, take me away from myself

by shinelikethestars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Depression, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinelikethestars/pseuds/shinelikethestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's sad, lonely, depressed. Maybe Louis will be his savior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	barely tangible being, take me away from myself

**Author's Note:**

> Pieced away, samples of writings, thrown together to give the internal perspective of things. Very subtle happenings, but the overall message is there. Enjoy.

There came a time in his life when everything that once seemed so natural, changed throughout the tiny specks of time. To the point where he was just existing. Eat, sleep, drink, repeat. There was nothing else really to fill the void. There may have been those few friends that sometimes chose to call every once in awhile, but for the most part, dead silence. Where did he go wrong? Was it even his fault? He tended to constantly place the blame on himself, even if it was clearly the other person at fault for where they stood.

It's like the domino effect. One bad decision turned into another regret. And before he knew it, it was too late to turn back.

-

It was like this gravitational force was weighing down more than just his body, his heart couldn't take much more. These feelings, he couldn't seem to control them. They were ripping his soul away, tearing towards the core. Harry would like to say he was happy, but that'd be lying and he was once told, liars burn in hell. Maybe he deserved to burn while everyone else revelled in the ever-consuming happiness encompassing them.

-

He was sick. He had been for awhile. Though, not the standard sniffles, much worse than those. Each day his thoughts were closer to consuming him. No one was there for him. His mom was busy doing things that didn't pertain to him. The rest of his family were off doing whatever. He was left to wallow in his own self-pity.

-

Months had passed. He had distanced himself from everyone completely. Every so often he'd add ink to his milky skin, random pictures that told a story, a cry for help. No one noticed, no one cared.

-

He was close to the edge. Closer to disappearing. He haden't left a mark on the world. He was only taking up space. What was his presence good for? He was a waste of space.

One day though, things changed.

-

He met a boy. A very pretty boy. He was an energetic, blue-eyed boy with golden skin. A sight-to-see. This boy was happy. Traits, that Harry himself, felt he was far from those days. He wished he could be as happy as the pretty boy with blue eyes and golden skin.

-

His name was Louis. His voice was as sweet as he was. Harry though, he wasn't anything special. He was shy. He was worthless when compared to Louis. He was undoubtedly nothing. Yet, Louis thought the opposite. Louis told Harry he was perfect in every way.

-

From their first encounter and on, Louis would trace the ink against Harry's skin. He'd ask what each tattoo meant, he'd ask, "Why are you sad?"

Harry was always tempted to answer Louis. He craved, yearned to reply back to him. Even just once, but he could never find the words and allow for them to go past his lips.

-

He was happy, finally happy. Louis was his savior, his saving grace.

He was close, so close to the edge, but Louis had pulled him back.

It was weird to him though, why would anyone want to waste their time with someone who never talked? Who was tired and sad beyond belief? He'd never spoken a single word to Louis, not once.

Louis usually made up for the lack of words, but then, one day Harry decided to be bold, spontaneous. They were sitting on the swings at the local park. Softly pushing their swings along by lightly nudging the gravel with the balls of their feet. Louis was talking about who knows what. Eventually, he stopped, and took in the silence, warm sun, and spring air. Harry had to do it, he had to, there was no turning back. In a soft, angel-like voice, he finally spoke his first words to Louis,

"Thank you,"

Louis looked at Harry after hearing those two words. He was wide-eyed for a moment before they went lax once again. Louis didn't respond to Harry using words. Louis did nothing but smile at Harry, the crinkles by his eyes depended by the second. He continued on smiling like that, not saying a word. Louis let the light spring wind do the talking. And Harry wouldn't have had it any other way.


End file.
